


That's Questionable

by seoyoff



Series: who let these kids have a youtube channel [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, I'm Sorry, Ignore everything I said about being more focused on the YouTube aspect, Implied Past Depression, Implied Past Suicidal Tendencies, Kinda realistic siblings, More focus on the YouTube aspect, Multi, Mutual Pining, Previous Actions Having Consequences, Q&A, Rated teen for language, Texting, This is the only real thing that this series has to offer., Trans Alexander Hamilton, Trans Angelica Schuyler, Trying to be Twitter and failing, Valentine's Day, Youtuber AU, but it's always been in my head since the beginning, for once, for real this time i promise, livestream, overuse of the nickname baby girl, thaat's john babyyy!!!!, to all the boys i've loved before - Freeform, which has oddly never been mentioned?? not that I remember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-10-19 18:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17606927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seoyoff/pseuds/seoyoff
Summary: “Three, two, one, and… Showtime.”In which there's actual fake dating, disaster boys, and a Q&A.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for once there's actual youtubing. it's a shock. enjoy.
> 
> oh, and the fake dating's real this time.

It’s past January eleventh, which means John Laurens can’t really use the, “I’m older” card on Alexander Hamilton anymore, and he laments on this fact while chewing on some cake from the party. 

Well, back to using the, “I’m taller”, card. That one never fails, unless Hamilton somehow got hold of some stilts, which would be mildly horrifying but an intriguing video idea, so he sets the plate down on his chest and takes out his phone to write it down in the notes app. 

video ideas lol

  * annoy burr the shit fuck for a week
  * do a walnut cracking challenge with someone (??)
  * fuck ideas i want the videos i have filmed to be edited already so that i don’t have to
  * go ice skating with the gang and see how that goes lol
  * ham on stilts (small boy becomes tall boy)



Speaking-or actually, thinking-of videos, mildly related is the livestream he wants to have later this evening. He’ll have to clean the living room for that. Or maybe his room. His room’s generally cleaner, so it’ll be easier. Actually, since the rest of their friend group-gang?-is coming over, he’ll have to clean the living room.  _ Fuuuck. _

“Hey, dipshit, do you know where-are you eating the- _ c’mon _ , you fuck!” John doesn’t turn around from his position on the couch, but by the sound of it, Alex’s running into the kitchen to grab a fork and-there he is. Junior perks up from her spot next to the TV-the beanbag, of all places. She takes all the comfiest spots, and he’s legally obligated to oblige her-and lazily lifts her head but doesn’t move.

Since John’s taking up the whole couch, Alex chooses to sit on the floor nearest to the plate and grabs a bite. He’s pouting, and it’s fucking adorable. John tends to fall for people that place him at risk of heart palpitations. 

“Well, what are you gonna do about it? I’ve already eaten the amount I’ve eaten, so…” John pauses, unsure of where he was supposed to go with that. It’s a slow day.

Slow days, ones you won’t remember in the long run, but are still a piece of the giant puzzle. You’re one day older, and that’s practically insignificant, but you still did things, spent time with shitheads like Alexander Hamilton. 

“Murder you and sell the parts to eat more cake, I think. How would you like to be murdered, by the way?” Alex makes stabbing motions with his fork in a show of faux violence, before eating another piece. 

“Probably by a gun to the head. Short, no suffering, no hullabaloo. Very little chance of making it out alive.” It makes John blink, how easy the answer is, how  _ light _ . It’s just a joke, a part of the conversation. But last January, Alex wouldn’t have dared to ask a question like that, and John wouldn’t have had the energy to answer anyway.

He looks around the room, then back at Alex, eating the rest of the cake. Funny, how life works out like that. Last year, he was convinced that he wouldn’t even make it to the new year-and yet here he is. It’s not like everyday’s a good day, because life’s not gonna work out like that, but it’s the most okay he’s been, and he’s been at that stage of  _ okay _ for months now. 

“Whaddya thinking about?” He feels a fork prod at his shoulder, and  _ ow _ . Asshole. Here John is, trying to have a deep and reflective moment, until the tiny rat in his life stepped into it. He chuckles at that. Typical. John wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Just thinking about how things were this time last year. Reflecting and shit, y’know? How things have been okay.” The fork lowers, and John turns in time to see something soften in Alex’s eyes-coffee, or perhaps poop brown, but beautiful all the same-and a small half-grin grace his face. 

“I’m glad you’re still here, Laurens. Even if you’re an asshole who steals my leftover birthday cake. I’m really, really fucking happy that you’re like, alive and shit. I’m not saying it right, and I’m trying to cover up my emotions with terrible humor, but like, fucking hell. I’m glad as shit you’re still here.”

“Hamilton, are you getting sappy on me? Who would’ve thought?” John leans over to give him a noogie, which Alex poorly dodges. 

“Fucking hell John, I’m trying to have a moment here with your stupid ass, stop ruining the moment!” 

_ There’s _ the little lion. 

“It was ruined the moment you stabbed me with the fork, dickhead!” 

But yeah.    


Things are good.

 

* * *

 

**snerual: yo yo reminder that we have a livestream tonight, 7:00 our apartment**

**WHOREchata: i’m still not over the fact that you ate my leftover birthday cake**

**snerual: i didn’t see your name on it so go fuck yourself**

**WHOREchata: fuck me yourself you coward**

**MCarey: take your sexting to another fucking chat you horny shits**

**snerual: because it was your birthday sometime ago i’m gonna tell you that that was a powerful comeback**

**snerual: @ maria it’s the fuckin’ bants but it’s not like you would know what that is lol**

**WHOREchata: BURN**

**LAFAYEET: it’s very entertaining to see both of them fall on the same sword,,,**

**magayrita: i scheduled my drug deal tonight because i forgot whoops**

**AngeliCANT: Margarita if you are going to have a drug deal at least have the decency to not tell everyone in the groupchat**

**snerual: my name isn’t fucking jonathan**

**Elizarda: MARGARITA SCHUYLER YOU HAVE SEVEN YOUNGER SIBLINGS TO BE EXAMPLES FOR AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO N O T HAVE DRUG DEALS**

**magayrita: lol who’s margarita schuyler?? i only know peggeth “peggy” skylar**

**HercuBees: Pegs your name is literally magayrita**

**magayrita: no fuckin’ comment HERCUBEES**

**MCarey: can we end the hellscape that is this chat**

**AngeliCANT: BTW I won’t be coming because apparently we have a pop quiz tomorrow on god knows what :) I love being a med student**

**HercuBEES: Shame**

**Elizarda: lol idc**

**LAFAYEET: elizabeth i never expected such coldness towards your dearest sister**

**magayrita: y’all act like we ain’t siblings lol,,, we hate eachother**

**AngeliCANT: Me? Enjoy being around my siblings? Never.**

**snerual: only children don’t get it lmaoo**

**HercuBEES: They really don’t**

**WHOREchata: i think i count as both an only child and a sibling-having child because i lost my brother eyyy lmao**

**Elizarda: alex w h a t**

**MCarey: jesus fuck i know it’s just his terrible coping mechanisms but that needs like several warnings**

**snerual: let the boy lament**

**LafaYEET: anywho, we’ll arrive at 7:00PM. clean your living room.**  
  


* * *

 

 

In the process of cleaning up the living room, it occurs to John that maybe he should check the time. 

7:43 PM.

Well, he’s yet to clean off the coffee table, and Eliza’s notorious for arriving ten minutes early, but if he bribes Alex, he can probably finish doing the camera setup in the seven or so minutes he has before anyone arrives. 

“Yo, Ham, can you clean the coffee table in seven minutes? I’ll… Not eat your birthday cake next year.” John’s facing away from the couch, and past experience implies that Alex is browsing Twitter on his phone. There’s a reluctant groan, a thump, and a depressing thud before he thinks to turn around. Alex’s on the floor. Or rather, there’s a blanket burrito on the floor, and Alex is inside it.

“Did you… Roll off the couch?” What sounds like a muffled, “No.” comes out from the burrito, and John turns around to finish the setup. Whatever. There’s various struggling noises behind him, including what John makes out to be, “I’ll literally do anything-within reason, fuck-if you let me out of here, you freckled fuck.”

There’s five knocks on the door-Eliza’s here, nine minutes early. 

“The door’s unlocked!” 

Eliza steps into the threshold and Junior gives a bark in welcome, probably jumps onto Eliza-she’s always really liked Liz. Not that he can see this whole hypothetical scene, there’s this one wire-or actually, several wires in a clump-and he’s never been good at untangling them. She probably rolls Alex out of his blanket prison, because a few moments later, John receives a slap on the head.

“That’s what you get for not helping out your roommate of five years out of prison!” 

“Oh? I recall bailing your ass out of prison more than once, Hamilton.” John rubs his head, fiddles with the wires  _ again _ . This shit never ends.   


“Funny that, because I recall that you were right next to me in the cell!” Finally, John’s done untangling the wires, so he turns around and sticks his tongue out at Alex, and grabs both his arms when Alex lunges at him. 

“Ladies, you’re both beautiful, but just sit down and clean up the coffee table. Have some dignity in your apartment, you’re about to go live in,” Eliza digs her phone out of her pocket, checks the time. “seven minutes.”

“Bold of you to assume I have dignity.” Mutters Alex, but he moves away from John to go cleanup the table. Arms free, John reaches for his phone. He already tweeted that he’d be live today at 7:00 PM for an open Q&A, but he might want to start asking for questions a bit early. 

A new set of people bust into the apartment, sans any kind of knocking. It’s Peggy and Laf, unsurprisingly, with Hercules and Maria close behind. Everyone’s here, which means they’ve got half of the hard part over. Eliza runs over to her girlfriend, gives her a kiss on the cheek, whispers something into her ear that makes Maria giggle. Peggy sticks a finger into her mouth and gags. 

A glance at the clock tells him that it’s 6;59 PM. They should probably get the show on the road. 

“Y’all get your asses in the living room, I’m about to start it!” There’s a flurry of motion as Peggy flings herself onto the couch-Alex gives a startled yelp at that and yet again, rolls onto the floor-Herc pushes the coffee table to the side, and Maria dumps the chips onto the floor. 

“Three, two, one, and… Showtime.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which as my language arts teacher would say, the inciting incident happens.

John backs away from the set up while jazz hand-ing. Lafayette takes the moment to slap both of his jazzy hands out of the air, which is rather unfortunate. Why the man insists on hating jazz hands, John’ll probably never know.

“Let me jazz, Laf. Anyway, we’re live, that’s cool, whatever. Y’all know the drill.”

It’s still an unexpected thrill, to see the view count climb rapidly. There’s also something cool and a little dangerous about going live-whatever mistakes you make are out there, in view of however many that are watching. No editing, no cuts. 

Looking at the chat, there are various greetings going around, ranging from howdy's to hi’s. 

“Since this is a Q&A, we’re just going to get right into answering questions. Peggy’s going to be in charge of giving them to us because we’re going to believe that she’s trustworthy.” Peggy gives a mischievous grin, not looking in any way trustworthy, but moves closer to the screen to read the questions in the chat. 

A bad idea, maybe, but none of them are good at making good decisions.

“Alright, this one comes from, uh, I didn’t bother reading the username. What’s Junior doing right now?” At the sound of her voice, Junior lifts her head from her spot-she's back on the beanbag.

“She’s on the best piece of furniture the shits own, which is the beanbag. You can’t see her, she’s under the camera.” Hercules waves a chip around as he answers. Laf, from his spot curled into Hercules, tries to steal the chip and fails.

“I resent that statement, I’m not just a shit, I’m a disappointment.” Alex remarks from his space on the floor, and Eliza pats his head from hers on the armchair. 

“Anyway, next question. Hum, so many questions, so little time. Ooh, this one’s weird. What does the person to your left smell like?” There’s a weird moment where they try to figure out who’s on their right-they’re not exactly sitting in a circle-and then another, slightly weirder moment where people are sniffing each other. 

“Oh, I have an idea!” Laf jerks up from sniffing Herc-perhaps a little too enthusiastically, for someone who’s constantly next to him-and almost hits Herc’s head with his own in the process.

“What?” Maria says, laying her head down on Alex’s lap in the process. Alex squirms, because he’s sensitive on his thighs, but doesn’t protest-verbally, that is. He usually would, but he’d never hear the end of it. Thus, his nose is scrunched up. 

“Don’t tell anyone what the person on your left smells like, but Peggy can choose someone and be like, “Guess what the person that I just smelled like smells like.”, and we have a game out of it.” There’s a collective shrug. Why not?

“Alright Alex, what does John smell like?” Peggy asks, John snorts, because of course. 

“Old Spice, apple and sandalwood.” Alex answers, almost immediately, looking off into space. He’s not paying attention. Well, they are roommates, and it’s not like John’s hiding his deodorant, and it’s not like they haven’t cuddled before. 

The rest of the room erupts though, hooting and laughing, and then John realizes that maybe knowing what someone smells like right off the bat is a little less than platonic. There’s a sudden blush on Alex’s face, and John scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment.  _ Lord, strike me down. _

Peggy recovers from her laughing fit, and after a quick glance from the chat, confirms that the chat’s freaking out about the whole smell thing, but it’s probably the worst thing that’ll happen all night, so whatever.

“Alright, next. Keeping up with the weird streak, what nicknames do y’all have for each other?” John reads the next question, trying to deflect onto the next topic.

“I often call Alex a gremlin, and Eliza’s shithead number two in my phone. Herc’s just Heracles, sometimes. John’s Jonathan, but that’s universal between us all.” Peggy inspects her nails nonchalantly, as Alex protests by throwing his hands up in the air. 

“My name isn’t Jonathan-” He’s cut off by Maria. 

“I call Eliza things like babe, and I think once to get her attention I called her lizard.” Maria chuckles at the memory, and Eliza rolls her eyes.

“Honey, Ria. Things like that.” 

“I call Eliza, “Betsy”, and I refer to her as my ex-girlfriend a lot.” Alex wiggles Maria’s head off his lap, before scooting to the middle of the room.   


“Oh, I guess you’re not going to mention that time when you called Laurens “Daddy” in the groupchat?” Hercules grins wildly and Alex bolts up from his position on the floor to leap onto the couch and smack him in the shoulder. John hides his face in his hands and groans because  _ of course  _ someone would bring that up.

“On that topic, don’t forget all the times that John’s called Alex, “baby girl”.” Peggy interjects, smirking. The chat’s gotta be _freaking_ out by now, it always does when something like _this_ happens. Why John chose this question is beyond him.

Lafayette’s desperately trying to pull the gremlin that is Alexander Hamilton off his boyfriend, but it’s not long before Alex just curls under the coffee table with his hands over his face. He’s definitely blushing. Peggy rolls her eyes and turns back to the laptop.

“Ok, ok, next question. Let’s get something a little more tame. How about… This one. Yeah. Who physically has the biggest mouth?” Peggy snorts. “It also follows up with, “We already know that Alex has the biggest metaphorical mouth since he never stops talking.”” 

John would answer that he doesn’t really know, but he has marshmallows if they want to test it out-but there’s a sudden buzzing from his phone, and he checks it to find out that-what? Martha’s FaceTiming him.  

“Hey, Pegs? I gotta take this, it’s my sister.” John whispers and Peggy nods, carrying on. He steps out into the hallway, not thinking much of it. They FaceTime occasionally, but it’s oddly inconvenient-is that the right word?-that she’s calling now. He answers the call, and predictably, Martha’s sitting in the-is that the office? 

“Hey kid, what’s up?” Martha rolls her eyes at that, about to retort something probably along the lines of, “You’re two years older than me, you don’t get to call me kid!”, as she always does. However, before she can get the words out, there’s a sudden noise explosion as the rest of his siblings crowd at the edges of the screen.

“Johnny boy!” There’s James, loud and annoying as a sixteen-year-old can be.

“Hey, Jack!” Polly, desperately trying to keep it cool and failing, grins wildly.

“Hi bro.” Henry waves a little in the background, before turning back to his book. 

It’s the entire family. Sans parents. Which is bizarre, until he remembers that they’re still home for winter break. John decided to forgo driving down for Christmas this year, considering the emotional disaster that had happened over Thanksgiving. 

“Hey y'all, what’s the occasion?” John, despite himself, grins a little. It’s nice to see his family-a surprising thought because he never would’ve thought that five years ago-siblings are annoying. 

Maybe it’s cause he’s out of the house, maybe it’s because they’re older, but the relationship he has now with his siblings is less of, “Let’s murder each other because you looked at me funny in the car.”, and more of, “Let’s make weird whale noises at each other from across the house as a form of communication.”

As mentioned earlier, only children will never get it. 

“The occasion,” Polly grins, “is us watching your livestream on the desktop. Mom and Dad are gonna swing by in a few to watch too.” Martha flips the camera, where they are indeed, watching the livestream. Currently, it’s apparently devolved into a wrestling match between Maria and Lafayette. Bizarre, but he’s seen weirder from his friends.

Back to the occasion, because his family’s watching his  _ livestream. _

John can’t tell if this is a bad thing or not, but whatever. Worse things have happened like, five minutes ago. C’mon John, make a decision, whatever happens, happens.

“Alright, so… I gotta get back to the stream since I’m hosting it, but I guess I’ll keep y’all on call.” 

After an excited, “That rhymed!”, from Polly, John steps back into the living room, where Alex has Peggy in a headlock. 

“John! Someone just made an excellent French pun. Instead of mon ami, it’s John ami.” Laf calls out before John passes both the fighting children and settles back into his spot. 

“That’s… Not terrible, actually.” Martha, hater of the French language in general (because she loves jazz hands, and Laf doesn’t), makes a noise of protest, and John remembers why he’s holding his phone.

“Is that Marty?” Alex loosens his grip on Peggy when he hears that, and Peggy takes the opportunity to wiggle out and sock him in the cheek. John’s not paying attention to that though, because  _ Marty _ ?

“Ok, first of all, why do you get to call her Marty and I don’t?” Alex, on the floor, groans, the dramatic little shit. John knows full well that he can take way worse.

“Alex is a decent human being who’s not my brother, so he gets to call me Marty.” Martha smirks. Peggy crawls over back to the laptop.

“I bring Alex home once for a week and you’re on nickname terms.” John pouts, which is immature, but he’s been trying to give Martha a nickname her entire life, so he’s allowed to be a child. 

“Ok, first of all, the chat wants to know what the fuck is going on with the FaceTime call. Secondly, they’re freaking out because you brought Alex home for Thanksgiving.” Peggy calls out. Harry ducks out of frame, realizing that he’s on screen now. James grins, drags him back, so Harry hits him on the head.

“Oh, yeah. Explanations. You might’ve noticed that I left the room earlier for a couple minutes to answer a call. This is the call, these are my siblings, they’re watching the livestream, and my parents are coming by later.” John takes a minute to eat a chip, and then Alex, recovered from the punch to the face, starts recalling about why he was invited home for Thanksgiving.

“Basically, when we were like, sophomores in college, I dared John to come out to his family the Thanksgiving after he turns twenty-two. Like, he could back out, because by the way, forcing someone to come out is something you shouldn’t do. Also, there were twenty-two dollars on the line. I dunno. John made me come along for emotional support. Yadda yadda, John comes out and now he can date all the guys that are throwing themselves at him. Now, I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Alex uses his arms to push himself off the floor, and pads down the hallway.

There’s a sudden noise from the call, and John turns to find his parents on the other side of the screen. Eleanor smiles and Henry’s painfully awkward looking, which is pretty expected, Henry doesn’t know how to interact around, “The Youth.”. 

“These are my parents, Mama and Pop Laurens. Everyone say hi.” John grins, dragging out the last bit of the sentence with a southern drawl. James groans, mumbling about how “Jack’s not allowed in South Carolina anymore, he doesn’t know how to accent anymore.”

“Yo, really? I would’ve guessed he never left, considering how much the accent comes out when he’s tipsy.” Maria waggles a finger, which John rolls his eyes at.

“Hello, Mr. Laurens.” Eliza, ignoring her girlfriend’s comment, waves back, and the rest of them follow her lead.

“Oh, and a late merry Christmas while we’re at it, but you know, if you came down for Christmas, it wouldn’t have to be if you just came down for Christmas.” Polly sticks her tongue out, bitter. 

“I told you, Polly, I wanted to spend one Christmas in New York, with friends. I’ll see you some other time, I told you.” 

Nobody needed to know that literally everyone else was gone except for John and Alex. Which was a big factor in why he stayed home-everyone was going somewhere else, and Alex would’ve been a sad sack who refused to take his binder off the entire two weeks with nobody physically around to remind him. 

Not to mention the emotional disaster that was Thanksgiving.

“More like you wanted to spend time with Alex, stop acting like anyone else was here.” Hercules, ever one to run through John’s bullshit, throws a pillow at his head.  _ Fuckin’ Herc. _

“Where is Alexander anyway? He’s a nice boy, John, I hope, uh, I hope you’re treating him right.” Henry cuts in, before being elbowed by Eleanor.

“We didn’t raise our son to treat his boyfriend badly, Henry.”

There’s a silence, and Alex walks back into the room, drying his hands on his jeans. He looks around in confusion, wondering why everyone’s staring at either him or John, stock still, jaws dropped.   


“Uh, guys, I know I’m hot, but this is a little weird.”

 

_ Fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to yeet myself into the sun because I've just turned into the classic fake dating au person, but the fact of the matter is, I was stuck writing this stupid livestream scene and then it came to me and it was good. so I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> also this chapter is basically all their past sins coming back to bite them in the ass. have fun with CONSEQUENCES you stupid boys


	3. Chapter 3

The room erupts for the umpteenth time that night, and it’s the loudest it’s ever been. As fast thinking as John is, he _really_ needs to talk to Alex about this utter bullshittery.

So John starts sprinting out of the room, grabs Alex’s hand. He drags them into Alex’s room-it’s closer-and slams the door behind them. Heart pounding, it’s only when John locks the door that he bothers looking at Alex. His eyebrows are scrunched up, he’s _really fucking pretty_ , and they’re _still holding hands_ , but that’s not the issue, John, _focus_!

“What the fuck is happening?” Alex isn’t yelling as he says this, but he’s not exactly using his quiet voice either, so John slaps a hand over Alex’s mouth because goddamnit, he’s kind of the reason why they’re in this mess in the first place.

“My parents came on the call and asked if I was treating you, my “boyfriend”, correctly.” John hisses, and recognition dawns on Alex’s face.

 

_“Jack, why didn’t you tell me that Alexander was your boyfriend?”_

_John’s head snaps up so fast, he hits the roof of the trunk. Ow, fuck. Alex looks like he’s about to burst out laughing. Or cry. John really can’t tell._

_“Um, Dad, whaddya mean?” He and Alex had been acting like proper, “No Homo”, friends for the past two weeks, where is this coming from?_

_“Er, Martha showed me some videos from your channel, are you not? I want you to know it’s fine either way, um. Yes. I support you.” Henry scratches the back of his neck as John glares at Martha, who’s smiling innocently. Which is, of course, when Alex grabs his hand._

_“We’re definitely dating. Have been for a month. Hope that’s alright with you, Mr. Laurens.” Alex nods, and John’s aware of the corner he’s been backed into. Henry has a great impression of Alex, and John will just look like an asshole if he says they aren’t dating. So this is how they’re leaving his family, with them thinking that they’re dating._

 

John takes his hand off Alex’s mouth, and it’s then when John clicks into his own crisis mode. The world slows down, because there’s shit to do, and panicking isn’t going to help.

“What the hell are we going to do?” Alex keeps glancing around John to the door as John says it as if expecting someone to batter down the door.

Alex has a different definition of what a crisis is-probably because the guy survived a hurricane-so while he’s not anxious in the way John was a minute ago, Alex also has an understanding of how their friends operate as human beings.

“Well, I’ll tell you what we can’t do. We can’t lie and say it’s a joke from your parents, because nobody’s going to believe that, your _parents_ just confirmed a relationship that they’ve been waiting on for practically years. Doing that also tells your parents that we’ve lied to them, or we’re lying to our viewers, and I don’t think either of them would be the kind to stand by and let that happen. Also, after we ran out like that, I don’t think anyone will believe us.” Alex taps the bridge of his nose as he lays out the facts, efficient and cold cut.

“So if we can’t deny it… We confirm and go along with it?” John absentmindedly starts swinging their hands together, which wow, Alex’s hands are surprisingly soft for mid-January. Wait. Focus.

“Uh, sure? We can tell the squad the truth after the livestream’s over.” Alex shrugs, before glancing back at the door.

“Wow Hamilton, glad to know that this relationship is fake as my ex.” John grins, attempting some form of humor. Alex chuckles, and would it _really_ be that bad if John leaned down _just a little_ and kissed him right now?

_Yes John, because you’re not dating. Remember what happened the last time you kissed him?_

“Just go along with what the other person does. Ready to face the world?” John nods at that, and they open the door.

“JONATHAN LAURENS AND ALEXANDER HAMILTON, YOU’VE BEEN DATING SINCE OCTOBER AND YOU DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING?” Peggy screams in the hallway, and John lets go of Alex’s hand to plug his ears halfway through. Alex holds up his hands in an, “I surrender”, movement, also wincing.

“Look, we’ll uh, explain, but can you not scream anymore? We’re going to get noise complaints.” Peggy snorts and goes down the hallway, (thankfully) not stomping.

As they enter the living room again, there’s a loud cheer. 

“Finally, you’re together. Who else saw this coming?” Lafayette grins, raising his juice box. Where he pulled that from, John’s not sure, because they haven’t bought juice boxes for months.

“I’m surprised we didn’t see it sooner, John literally calls him baby girl. Tell me that’s not gay. I mean, I thought it was just to see Hamboy blush, but how didn’t I see it before? It’s so obvious. They’re practically glued together.” Maria twirls her hands in Eliza’s hair, braiding it. Eliza herself just gives a thumbs up. _Speaking of glued together._

Suddenly, both of them almost pitch forward, because something’s behind them, and now they’re getting hugged, and oh-it’s just Herc. 

“Y’all idiots are finally together.” He mutters, before setting them both down. John laughs nervously. As happy as their friends are, and as much as John would like them to be actually dating, they’re _not._

“We knew before anyone else.” Polly’s smug voice floats through John’s phone, still standing up against the stack of books.

“I can’t believe I had to tell Dad on your coming out trip that your guest was your boyfriend.” Martha says, equally smug.

“Remember how before Jack came for Thanksgiving I changed his sheets to Peppa Pig, and how Harry found them cuddling?” James’ voice is quiet,  but still holds a certain air of mischief. There’s a scandalized yell from Dad before Mom tells him to, “Calm down, Henry.”

Fucking traitors, the whole lot of them, Martha especially.

“Y’all, come on!” John’s about to verbally throwdown with his siblings when Alex grabs his arm.

“Yo, maybe we should explain what’s going on to like, the livestream we’re hosting.” Well, Alex does have a good point there, but John doesn’t really know how to say anything.

“Well uh, what did John’s parents say?” Alex picks up after a moment of John blanking, so John bumps shoulders with him in thanks, and motions for them to sit down because it’s getting really awkward standing up now.

“That when you two went down for Thanksgiving, y’all had already been dating for a month. Nothing much else, because y’all left before anything else happened.” Eliza sticks her tongue out at them. Whoops. Maybe not telling your friends about your fake four-month relationship was a bad idea.

“Ok well… Y’all have any questions then?” John scoots back to lean against the coffee table, and Alex follows suit. They’re brushing shoulders, nothing unusual, but maybe they should be closer after four months of dating.

Put your arm around his waist? Sure, whatever. Alex tenses for a split second, before leaning into it.

“First of all, why the hell did you not tell us?” Maria’s sitting criss-cross on the floor, leaning forward on her elbows. There’s an indignant look on her face, eyebrows furrowed accusingly. Eliza has her head on Maria’s lap, and Eliza grabs her hand to play with it. Cute.

Fuck. Questions were a bad idea. Why would Alexander Hamilton, the most vocal person alive, want to keep his relationship a secret?

John might be reckless beyond saving, but actions were just instinct. This was some intricate, believable lie they had to construct. He was beyond fucked.

“Well, when we did get together, John wasn’t out to his parents, so we kept it a secret. By the time he was out, we were already used to keeping it down low, so we kind of made it into a game. See how long we’d last without someone finding out.” Alex, once again coming to the rescue. John’s gotta pick up his game if this is going to work.

Relax. Just say things that already work out with how your relationship already is.

“Of course y’all would do that.” Lafayette cackles softly, drooping a little in his seat. Polly snorts, whispers something to Martha. Polly passes it onto James, who passes it to Henry.

Good on Alex. That’s believable, that they’d agree to turn something into a little game.

“Ok, my turn. How did it happen?” Eliza pipes up, still on Maria’s lap.

 _C’mon_ John, use your seven brain cells to think of _something._

“Well, funny story,” John chuckles a little, and Alex gives him a disapproving side glare. He can practically hear Alex telling him to make it less embarrassing. “After my birthday party, we were walking home, right? Then out of nowhere, the little gremlin kicks me in the back of my knees, and while I’m kneeling on the ground _in pain_ , he kisses me.”

The knee thing had actually, in fact, happened. Minus the kissing part. Alex had just wanted to whisper in his ear, “We’re bros, bro.” Apparently, to get remotely near John’s face, Alex couldn’t ask for him to lean down, John had to be kicked down via his poor knees.

They’d been more than a little drunk.

Alex, by now full on pouting, shoves John in the shoulder. “Fuck you, man! I thought you said we wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“What time, baby girl?” This is almost pathetically easy, which probably says something about their normal relationship. Just do the usual, turn up a few aspects.

Speaking of the usual, Alex is blushing like a madman. The nickname still works like a charm.

“Jack Laurens, don’t be so vulgar, your fourteen-year-old sister is watching!” Eleanor scolds him through the phone, and John feels _himself_ start blushing. _Thanks, Mom._

“Hey y’all, we have time for one more question, it’s almost nine.” Hercules, in a permanent state of _loco parentis_ , reminds them of the time. Lafayette’s laying in his lap by now, which is probably also a reason.

Goddamn, they’re all acting couple-y tonight.

“Oh, yeah, what happened at Christmas?” Peggy wrinkles her eyebrows as she continues. “If y’all were already dating, why did Alex pull away when we dared you to kiss?”

“Oui, what the heck?” Laf sleepily raises his head, before dropping back down into Herc’s lap.

They’re fucked, right? Wrong, they already answered this. Right?

“We wanted to keep it a secret, we can’t exactly do that if we’re making out on the couch.” Alex leans into John a little closer at that, which John takes as an opportunity to kiss him on the head. Peggy gags.

“I’m the only single one anymore! All I have is Angie, and she’s not even around tonight. Disgusting. My aro ace self shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Peggy continues complaining as John untangles himself from Alex and walks over to the setup.

“Well, that was exciting, to say the least, but our time’s almost up I’m afraid. Uh, is there anyone we can raid right now?” John looks around the room, and Peggy stops ranting for a minute.

“I think Dosie’s still streaming. Everyone go raid Dosie! Her username’s literally just Dosie, D-O-S-I-E. She recently had her bisexual awakening back in December, and I found her at a gay bar looking buff and distressed so I took her under my wing.” Alex seems to perk up at the name as if recognizing it.

“Alright then, go raid Dosie, send her our love. Bye y’all!” The rest of the room choruses their goodbyes and John ends the livestream.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur of saying goodbye to his family, his friends leaving the apartment, and it’s only until he’s shut the door on Laf and Herc that he realizes that they never told them that he and Alex _aren’t dating_.

“Hey, bud?” John nudges at Alex’s shoulder with his arm, and Alex looks up.

“Yeah?”

“We never told them that we aren’t dating.”

There’s a pause as the boys realize what this means. Their friends will never believe them-not after that whole show they put up, not after John’s parents confirmed it, and after what Alex and John just said-that keeping their relationship a secret was a joke.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We’re fucking screwed.”

 

* * *

 

It’s been about two weeks, and it’s February now. Which is a problem, because as John and Alex have been fake dating for those two weeks, and announced their fake relationship two weeks ago.

Oh, and February, among having notable holidays like President’s day and being Black History Month, also has Valentine’s Day.

“John dearest, sweet-ass, babe, whatever shall we do for Valentine’s day? Everyone that we know is expecting something.” Alex leans across the table at the coffee shop they’re at. He’s taken to calling John couple-y nicknames-well, as much as ‘Sweetass’ can be a nickname-for the purpose of their fake relationship, as well as retaliation for John calling him baby girl-which John takes every opportunity to do now, annoyingly. 

The cafe they’re in is quiet, the smell of coffee unsurprisingly permeating through the air. Light passes through the one window, highlighting one side of John’s face as he sips on a coffee thoughtfully, hazel eyes narrowed in thought. _God, he’s pretty._

Handsome guys are, y’know, handsome, but pretty boys? They’re special. It doesn’t make sense to anyone but Alex, but pretty and handsome are definitely different sides of the same coin. Which is the same for most synonyms, but there’s a difference between pretty boys and handsome boys, ok?

“Well, baby girl,” John looks up from his cup to flash a grin. Honestly, Alex always thinks that he’s over blushing on that nickname, but Laurens always manages to grin at him, use it again, and Alex’s face decides that red is its favorite color. “Seeing as we’ve been “dating” for four-actually, five-months’, I doubt that anyone will be expecting us to stay home and cuddle in our pajamas. New relationship and all that.”

“Then Laurens, I suppose we’ll have to have to do dinner at some fancy-ish restaurant. Like uh… I dunno, where would you take me on a date? I can’t think of anything right now.” Alex ignores the little jump his heart makes at his own words, which is stupid because _he_ said them.

The past two weeks have left Alex in a mess. Days are filled with flirting and too-close moments where Alex gets too real with his “fake” romanticisms, and his nights are crowded with thoughts, wishes, fantasies that this relationship is rea, before the sun goes up and it crashes all around him.

_Goddamnit Alex, you promised yourself that you’d stop doing this bullshit._

“That Italian place in Greenwich?” John’s answer comes out almost surprisingly fast. Alex was expecting at least a minute of thinking.

There’s a sudden realization he has, and Alex smiles to himself. They’ve been best friends since they met five years ago, of _course,_ John knows where Alex would like to go, what he’d enjoy. It was such a _John_ thing to do. Keeping track of small mentions, being the sweetest guy alive.

_No wonder why I love him._

“What are you smiling for? Are you that excited to go on a date with me, Hamilton? Because I too, wouldn’t pass up a change to go out with this hunk.” John flexes his arm and kisses his own bicep, grinning. Alex laughs at that, and his thoughts melt away for a moment, lost in the moment of a flexing contest, of spending time with his better half in a quiet coffee shop.

 

* * *

 

Eliza loves Valentine’s Day. The hearts, the love, the dates, all of it. Sure, the whole red, white and pink thing doesn’t really fit her usual color scheme, but Maria _always_ looks good in red, and Eliza can pull off something pink and white no problem.

Yeah, you should celebrate your significant other every day, but there’s something _nice_ about having a specific date laid out, one day where you show them that in whatever way you can.

The thing is, Eliza has always wanted a girlfriend. She doesn’t hold romantic love to a higher standard than that of familial or platonic love, but she loves the idea of dates, domestic moments, spending time with a person you love. Papa Schuyler often jokes that Eliza’s first word was girlfriend, before Oma rolls her eyes and reminds him that it was, in fact, engagement ring.

(It was not, in fact, either of those things-Eliza’s first word was red.)

It’s no question, after seeing an interaction like that between her parents, how Eliza turned to be such a hopeless romantic. Her parents were happy in their long standing marriage, loved each other dearly. Pragma, the greeks called it. Mature love, love that ages like a fine wine. She wanted something like that, especially since she’d had such great examples of it growing up.

Eliza had denied her blatant lesbianism for a long time. So long, that it was only after the disaster that was dating Alexander Hamilton that she finally admitted it to herself. Her parents laughed when she came out to them, saying that they already knew. So it was natural that she really wanted to embrace her own romantic whims.

Beyond her own relationship though, she’s pretty invested in other people’s relationships too. Lafayette and Hercules, with their silly, trusting and fun relationship, Alex and John’s snarky, fiery and devoted one. Which, oh yeah, they’re dating now! Eliza’s been hoping that John and Alex would get together for years, ever since her and Alex’s inevitable breakup way back when, and now here they are!

Here being Eliza’s kitchen floor, where John lays face down onto the tile while he moans about Valentine’s day, when she’s supposed to be watering her plants.

“What am I gonna do Eliza? You’d think after knowing him for half a decade I’d know what to do, but I’m completely blanking right now. Like, if I had to choose a restaurant, I already know, but I don’t want to choose a restaurant.” John moans his plight, slightly muffled, while Eliza strokes his hair. _Goddamn, it’s soft._

“Well, I personally wouldn’t go to someone’s ex for Valentine’s day advice, but we did break up on good terms, so I’ll excuse it. Think of the first thing that comes to mind when I tell you to think of what Alex likes.” John makes a humming noise, before turning his head sideways.

“Writing’s an obvious one, Books, and he likes music too. He cooks, when he’s not being lazy.” John took in another breath, like he was about to say more, but deflated instead. _Cute._

“Alright, so take him to a bookstore, let him pick something, and read it together. Bam. Add in flowers or something if you’d like, maybe a card. Oh, and maybe get groceries and make dinner together. Honestly, just do something you'd do for him regularly. I know y'all have had some two-on-two platonic dates, even before you were dating.” Eliza’s a love guru, she could probably make a living off of making up date ideas.

Well, when she’s talking about other people’s relationships. With her own? She’s just trying to stay afloat.

“That’s… Actually not a bad idea.” Laurens brings his head up a little, flashes her a grateful smile. There we go.

“Great, now I can get back to watering my plants.” Eliza picks herself up off the floor, giving John a little kick. He remains on the floor, and Eliza thinks that he’s asleep by the time she finishes watering.

Honestly, her entire friend group is made up of dumbass gays, and she couldn’t be happier about it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey isn't it fun how i've never mentioned john blushing ever before but the one time he does it's because his mom scolded him for being vulgar on stream with his fake boyfriend?? yeah i thought so too
> 
> oh, and eliza's first word being red? not a coincidence, because red is maria's primary color.
> 
> anyway i really hope you enjoy this chapter that hasn't been around for far too long. the last times i tried to upload it, ao3 crashed, so there's that. i'm really sorry that it's almost been a month. i'm so, so slow at writing. thank y'all for your patience!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which disaster boys make mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if y'all have questions for the characters, or about this series in general, ask in the comments!
> 
> anyway here's some questions that i thought y'all might have from the get go? idk
> 
> Eliza's mom is Korean, her dad is white. Hence the Dutch/American last name of Schuyler. Don't know if that was clear.  
> Oh, and Oma is mom in Korean.
> 
> i also haven't ever been drunk and i honestly can't be bothered to research something as,,, weird as drunkenness. when i see people get drunk they just get loud as fuck and eat dried squid with mayo+some other brown sauce.

Reasonably, John shouldn’t be stressed out about a fake Valentine’s day date. All he and Alex needed to do was take a few pictures and just fuck around for a bit, and yet John was laying down on Eliza’s kitchen floor a couple of days ago asking for advice. Like it was the real deal.

News flash Laurens, remember what happened the last time you did anything non-platonic with the guy? He avoided you for _weeks._

Anyway, today’s Valentine’s day and Alex woke him up by asking John to be his PALentine, which John almost cried at-whether it was because of the awful reminder or the awful pun is to be debated. Regardless, John said yes, and now they’re cuddling in John’s bed with Junior, asleep at the foot of the bed, while watching To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. Eliza almost cried the first time she saw it. A Korean lead in a major movie? She’d never seen anything like it. For once, she was represented.

Which was actually what Alex was talking about right now.

“Can you believe that so many studios wanted to make Laura Jean white? Honestly, representation in media is so goddamn important. Take a look back at Eliza’s reaction to the film, think of how many other people that are just like her. Kids that are just like her, who have never seen someone like them on the big screen.” Alex had paused the movie and was gesturing towards the screen, where Laura was currently making out with Peter on the track.

John's reminded, as he glances at the paused screen, that he and Alex are also fake dating. Alex and John aren't making out in public though.

“I honestly don’t have anything to add to that, since you said it all, so I’m just gonna keep watching.” John nudges Alex with his shoulder, and they settle in.

Halfway through, Alex takes two pictures. One, a selfie where Alex is kissing his cheek-John almost died right then and there, and even worse, John’s blushing in the picture-and two, a picture of the laptop in their laps. He posts them both to Twitter.

“Exploiting me for likes, baby girl?” John grins as he watches Alex tap on the tweet button, and Alex turns his head to face John’s with an indignant look on his face, which isn’t very convincing due to the blush on his face.

Both of them are latino-or in John’s case, half latino-so blushes don’t show up very well on either of their faces, but John can still tell whenever Alex is blushing. It happens often nowadays. John blushes less than Alex does, but he’s been told that he blushes when his mom scolds him for doing a Stupid Thing, or whenever he has to do something remotely romantic by former partners.

Look, doing romcom level bullshit is hard, ok?

“I’m trying to convince everyone that something’s happening because of my sheer idiocy and Marty’s shitheadness, Laurens.” Alex retorts.

“Good point, good point.” John chuckles and leans his head onto Alex’s shoulder, continues watching the movie. Things get quiet after that.

It’s February, and two boys are warm, watching a movie together.

 

* * *

 

 

**a.coldcuts:**

**@alexander.hamilton**

woke up to hang out with my daughter, sigh. who knew i’d make such a great parent. oh, and john’s here too. (dog emoji)(heart emoji)

_two attachments_

 

**REPLIES:**

 

**a.coldcuts:**

**@alexander.hamilton**

in all seriousness, i love him in every way, every day. happy valentine’s babe ;)

 

**lover liza:**

**@lizardbeth._.schuyler**

y’all are so cute :D

 

**Mullicant:**

**@heraclesm**

I don’t know whether to comment on the cavities this post made me or the sort-of bestiality reference

 

**Jahwn owns my UWU’s**

**@rach.mt**

I’m going to walk into the goddamn ocean they’re adorable and domestic and ugh

 

**Love, Lams**

**@detective.lambs**

first v-day, why do i even run this account anymore?? who needs proving that they love each other at this point (i definitely mean alex and junior. wait, remember when alex hated her, and now he calls junior their daughter?? i’m crying giyhggjo)

 

***heterosexual**

**@jawhn.lawrence**

bby girl you're mediocre too,,, but you’ve crossed the line into poetry

 

**a.coldcuts:  
@alexander.hamilton to @jawhn.lawrence**

i know that you shit, i did it on purpose

 

***heterosexual**

**@jawhn.lawrence to @alexander.hamilton**

sigh.

 

**a.coldcuts:  
@alexander.hamilton to @jawhn.lawrence**

<3

 

* * *

 

“Since we’re supposed to go on a fake Valentine’s day date today, I pretended to cry on Eliza’s kitchen floor while making sure she serendipitously planned out a date for us.” John mumbles after the movie’s over, and Alex can’t help but smile. Classic Eliza.

“She’s pretty good at that. So, what’s gonna happen, other than us hanging out and taking a picture or two to help this dumbass narrative we have going on?” Alex grins.

Other than the whole, “Oh no, this just highlights how unlikely a relationship between us is.”, angst factor and the constant “lies” he writes on his Twitter about John, the fake dating thing is actually fucking hilarious. Sure, he might feel like exploding every time he and John do anything remotely non-platonic, but it’s also just funny planning a, “Let’s practice kissing”, day as a joke.

“Well, after me spewing some things you liked, she concocted that we go to the bookstore and pick out a book, then to the grocery store, then home, where we make dinner and read the book together.” Alex feels himself start to grin, before considering that while John would have fun doing those things, those activities were very specific to Alex, and if Alex let this stupid holiday pass by without letting his boyfriend have something special for him, Alex would be a failure at dating _and_ avocado eating, which was unacceptable.

 _WAIT. No, fake boyfriend. Correction, Alexander,_ **_fake_ ** _boyfriend._

“Those sound fun, but it’s not very you, is it? Like, you’ll have fun regardless, but I’d be a shitty fake-date if we did things that are really more me catered.” John raises his eyebrows, and it’s then when Alex knows that he hadn’t even considered himself in the process. Like always. God, that was annoying. In an endearing way. But still annoying.

“Ok then sweet-ass, we’re going to that vaccine dog statue in Central Park so that you can finally draw it, after all your whining that you can’t get it right. We’re bringing Junior, she can pay her dog-respects.” John rolls his eyes at that.

“His name is Balto, not the ‘vaccine dog’ Alex.” Sigh. Curse John and his animal-loving self.

“Whatever, not like he saved the lives of children in Alaska or anything. Anyway, let’s do those things-” Alex is about to throw the blankets off and himself out of bed when John grabs his arm.

“Let’s just cuddle for like, an hour longer. I haven’t woken up yet, dumbass.” John gives a lazy grin, and Alex’s heart might’ve just melted. His Twitter post was a little too true. Not that John needed to know.

So, of course, Alex lets himself get dragged back under the covers and doesn’t let himself think of the word that’s nagging at the edges of his mind.

It’s Valentine’s day, and they’ve got some pictures to take, a whole charade to continue, but for now, two boys and their dog spend a winter morning where they belong.

 

* * *

 

 

Alex is thinking. Not a surprise, but right now it’s dark, and he’s alone in his bed, and he’s thinking.

He thinks about a kiss in December, a second where he melted despite the weather outside.

He thinks that this fake dating thing they’ve got going on is funny and great in the daylight when the sun highlights the good times, but at night? Night, when he’s not distracted by the million other things he’s got going on and reminded of his own body, of how much it sucks? At night, when he’s not with John, in bed together as a couple should be? Alone? Reminded that it’ll never, ever happen?

Well.

It just hurts.

He turns over, grabs his phone, checks the date and time.

 

 **3:28 AM  
** **Sunday, March 3rd**

 

Hurts, hurts, hurts, until he closes his eyes, and fucking _finally_.

Sleeps.

 

* * *

 

“ALRIGHT FUCKERS, WHO’S READY TO GET DRUNK TONIGHT?” Alex nearly falls off the kitchen counter when Maria busts into the house, which is probably an indicator that he and John should probably lock the door more often.

Regardless, Alex _is_ ready to make terrible decisions. It’s March, it’s raining, it’s thirty degrees outside and usually, he’d be down to hide in Angelica’s apartment, amongst her many pillows, where she _understands_ what it’s like to hate whatever entity put you in the wrong body. But now that Maria’s brought it up, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

“I am!” Alex raises his fist in greeting, and Maria bumps it, laughs. It’s a good look on her.

Maybe it’s the whole melancholy mood bullshit he’s got going on, but Alex remembers what it was like when he first met Maria.

She was little scared, more than unsure, but there was a fierceness to her, a pride that she was finally going to get this right, to prove whoever it was that said she couldn’t bring the world down wrong. Alex, despite never having seen Maria before, _recognized_ her. The hard set to her jaw, the straightness in her spine, the fire in her eyes.

It was the same look that Alex had seen every time he had looked into a mirror.

Maria hadn’t been his first friend-he had Hercules for that-but she was pretty damn close.

Nowadays, they’re both different. Maria doesn’t look behind her own back when she’s near _his_ apartment anymore. Alex doesn’t lash out at the slightest physical contact. Time has changed them both. The fire in their eyes isn’t gone, but it changes now. Becomes like coals in a fireplace, sparks floating in the night sky, rather than a constant, raging forest fire.

“Hold the phone, what the fuck’s going on? Why are we getting trashed? Where’s everyone else?” John, who was also sitting at the counter, wrinkles his eyebrows. Maria rolls her eyes, examines her nail polish. Eliza probably did it. 

God, how cute and domestic can his friends get?

“We don’t need a reason to go to some local bar and gorge ourselves on alcohol and wings, Johnny. I just don’t feel like editing videos tonight, and I already texted the groupchat. I don’t know why you haven’t seen yet, but judging from how fucked your hair is, I don’t want to know. So are you in, or not?” Alex feels his face heat up rapidly, and he opens his mouth to explain before John shoots him a look and he shuts himself up.

The truth is that John found the giant fork on the top shelf of their cabinets and insisted that he could brush his hair with it. Honestly, the man was consistently vain about his hair, so Alex couldn’t fathom how he thought it was a good idea. Needless to say, a giant fork and curly hair hadn’t worked out very well. Hence why John’s hair was fucked.

Maybe it is better for their friends to assume that they’d been… Doing things. It certainly helped with the fake dating thing.

The reminder twists something in his chest, because after last night, it just hurts, ok?

“I’m in, I guess.” John mumbles, turning back to his eggs. Maria grins, turns on her heel, and is walking back out of the apartment within seconds.

“Right then, I’ll leave you two love birds to your domestic life slash making out plans. Cya!” The door closes, and that’s when Alex pounces.

“I can’t believe you’d rather let Maria believe we were making out than admit your fork mistakes!” He crows, jumping off the counter. John groans, covering his face with his hands. Cute.

“Well, it matches up to what she already believed, so why not?”

“Because of comedic value, dickhead! I can’t believe I listened to you instead of telling her!”

“I’m never going to look at a fork ever again. Or you, for that matter.”

“Shut up and watch your eggs, I think they’re burning a little.”

“Fuck you, no they’re not!”

“Time and place baby, time and place!”

 

* * *

 

”Who are you trying to impress with your already luscious hair John, our trash squad?” Alex groans as he sits in the bathtub, watching John meticulously put his hair into a half-up, half-down bun that’s _going_ to be ruined by the end of the night.

It’s not like Alex expected anything different, but seriously, you’d think the man would learn.

John spits a bobby pin out of his mouth. “I’m trying to make this burnt-spaghetti noodle lookin’ mop look presentable because you know Laf’s filming tonight, asshole.”

“Bro, you know you walk around looking like a L’Oreal commercial every day, shut the fuck up.” It’s not like Alex hasn’t seen this same routine countless times, it’s that John’s hair, in his opinion, always looks good, so this thirty minute to hour endeavor is so _unnecessary._

“Yeah, well L’Oreal hair takes work, grease rat.” John might gripe, but Alex sees how his lips quirk ever so slightly at the compliment, and that’s a victory if he’s ever seen one.

 

* * *

 

 

“Uno!” Eliza slaps her single card down on the table. Hercules had brought cards, including Uno, so now Lafayette was just recording a bunch of twenty-somethings getting progressively drunker as they play card games. Which wasn’t much of a problem for Laf, because he was also one of the progressively drunker twenty-somethings.

Maria makes a loud ‘EH’ noise, similar to what shows up on TV after a big red x is shown. “Draw four, baby!” She drags on the last syllable for baby longer than necessary, and Eliza’s clearly mad but ends up kissing her on the cheek anyway.

John doesn’t care about Uno, to be honest, he’s really more focused on playing with Alex’s hands, a habit he picked up in middle school whenever he was bored-or just trying to hold a cute boy’s hand, to be honest-under the guise that he was studying how to draw hands, and real-life models were good for that.

“Bro! If you’re gonna make out, at least don’t do it while leaning on me! Even Alex n’ John have the decency to not make out. Look at this hand-holding bullshit. I would let my dogs see that.” Peggy complains loudly from her spot in the booth, where a decently-shamed Hercules pushes away a thoroughly bummed out Lafayette, who’s complaining that Peggy doesn’t have a dog anyway.

Then John gets a terrible, awful idea. Because John Laurens is anything but a decent human being.

“Alex. Fuckin’ like… Shithead. C’mere,” Alex takes a moment to stop rhapsodizing about Junior to Peggy, the benefits of having dogs, and the fact that she should get one to lean into John, who also leans in to whisper in his ear. “Y’know how Peggy like, said that thing about hand holding? Let’s fuckin’... Let’s fuckin’ pretend to make out in the bathrooms.”

_This is a great idea. Imagine the look on Peggy’s face._

Alex leans away and grins, so John takes that as an answer to use the hand that he was already holding to drag Alex out of the seat and stumble in the direction of the bathrooms. Behind them, they hear Peggy make a scandalized noise, and it’s only until they close the bathroom door that they both start laughing their asses off.

“I, I didn’t fucking see the look on her face, but like, dude. John-bo. Imagine. Laf’s filming too, this is gonna be great.” Alex crows and hops onto the counter, struggling a little due to the lack of breath.

John doesn’t care that much about the rest of the sentence after John-bo, to be honest.

“Fuckin’ John-bo?” John says incredulously, and Alex doesn’t stop laughing his ass off, and wow, is it the shitty bathroom lighting, or is Alex just extra pretty?

It’s Alex, John decides, being handsome as fuck with his wheezy-snort laugh that’s not like, musical sounding or some shit, but it’s laughter, and that shit’s pretty no matter what it sounds like, like because it’s fuckin’ pure happiness or something.

That was sort of like what Mom said to Martha, because Martha has a laugh like that, and she refused to laugh for months because she thought it was ugly. John had been a little less poetic and told her to, “Suck it up and laugh already Mart, I’m tired of you bein’ a sad bitch.”.

They’ve been quiet for a while when Alex sighs. He must be the top contributor of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. That’s funny. Imagine like, a bar chart, with Alex’s head on top of the longest bar. ‘Local Man has to Stop Breathing for the Environment’.

John giggles, and Alex asks him why, but John can’t remember.

“Maaan, this blows. How long to people makeout in a bathroom? This is boring. We don’t even get to make out while we’re in here,” Alex pauses, then lights up suddenly. “Wait. John. What if we like, makeout right now?”

John’s a little past drunk, but he still has decision making abilities. Right?

Reasonably, making out with his best friend that he’s been in love with for fucking ages is a bad idea. But also a good idea, because he gets to makeout with his best friend that he’s been in love with for ages. A good bad idea. A gad idea? A bood?

_The word bood is really fucking funny._

Wait, John, stop being drunk.

“That sounds like… Like a terrible idea.” Alex slumps, and John can just tell he’s about to stick out his tongue and tell him that he’s “No fun.”, because that’s what happened the last time Alex suggested a good-bad idea in a public bathroom. For the record, if John’s remembering properly, the idea was to steal a stall door.

“But like, it’s a good terrible idea. I’m in.” Alex rolls his eyes. Eyes? Eyes. John’s going to ignore that thought. _Eee-yes._

“Well then like, come over here and let’s make out?” So John steps across the dirty bathroom floor, not entirely sure how they’re gonna do this. Alex is sitting on the counter, and he smushes John’s face with both of his hands.

This is _fine_. John’s heart is beating at a normal rate, and not at all with terrible decisions. Oh, and because his heart’s totally beating at a not-fast rate, John leans in hesitantly, like an eighth grader having their first kiss over spin the bottle. He’s not focusing at all on Alex’s eyes, which look like they’re trying very hard not to cross, or Alex’s hair, or his nose, which is also cute.

In fact, John is so focused that he and Alex bump noses. _So_ focused.

“This is really fucking weird.” Alex giggles. Fucking _giggles_ , with his stupid-pretty eyes. John can’t help but smile, of _course_ this is fucking weird. Alex is sitting on a bathroom counter, they’re both drunk, and trying to kiss each other because they’re bored and it’s a good bad idea.

“Ok, just. Fuck, um. Like this, like this.” After his giggle fit, Alex cups a hand on the side of John’s face, and it doesn’t so much burn as it does simmer, warm and alive and his hands feel soft as hell. John leans into it, closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling, because what the _fuck_ are they doing again?

“Open your um. Eyes, asshole. I’m not coordinated enough to do this by myself.” Alex chides, and John reluctantly opens his eyes to the dirty-ish bar bathroom, with its smudged mirror and slightly-moldy-in-that-one-corner tiles, and Alex.

Who probably just forgot what eyes were.

Granted, John lowkey forgot what they were earlier too, but Alex doesn’t know that.

“Did you fuckin’ forget what eyes were?” John asks, so Alex pouts. That’s cute as hell, and it’s such an Alex thing to do, to forget what eyes are and say the word coordinated in the same sentence. So John swoops in, right up until his lips are almost touching Alex’s, but not quite, because that’s when Alex closes the gap. It’s a drunken press of lips, until John does something and Alex does something and _oh._

John might actually start floating, because _holy shit._

That’s good. Drug good. Christmas when he was fifteen and they got Wheatley the cat as a family present good. Key change in the middle of a song good. John could label it as a million things, and it’s just good. The fucking world just turned upside down. 

Alex is good at kissing, and he’s nice to kiss. And John loves him. They should do this more often. Wait, does Alex love him too?

John’s about to follow that thought with another, but then Alex nibbles on John’s lower lip and his brain just.

_Melts._

 

This is _so_ unfair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all already know what's gonna happen next don't you
> 
> so Eliza's reaction to all the boys i've loved before was my reaction because i might hate romcoms like the kissing booth (because the kissing booth was fucking disgusting) but to all the boys i've loved before owns my soul.
> 
> can you believe that they both forgot what eyes were sigh  
> my boys are fucking stupid 
> 
> i gave alex my avocado allergy and i'm not sorry avocados are gross
> 
> OH AND THE BALTO (vaccine dog) STATUE IN CENTRAL PARK IS A REAL THING AND BALTO IS LIT he owns my soul
> 
> ALSO AT THE BEGINNING WITH TATBILV (to all the boys i've loved before) I DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE THE FAKE DATING/MAKING OUT PARALLEL UNTIL EDITING BUT I'M SO GLAD I CAUGHT IT
> 
> reminder that you're free to ask questions in the comments! about the series, about me, and even to the characters if we want to get ask blog-y.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD writing this chapter was a sister struggle y'all
> 
> Honestly, the reason why this chapter in particular sucks so much is that all of my creative forces are being used on planning out a series that I've had stuck in my head for a little over a year now? But now I'm actually laying down the framework and getting ideas and FUCK more on that later
> 
> Anyway I hope y'all enjoy this (maybe) long-awaited chapter!
> 
> Sorry not sorry about that kinda-sorta cliffhanger last time :)

Alexander Hamilton is kissing John Laurens.

Alexander Hamilton is kissing John Laurens, and it’s _maddening_. Intoxicating, even more so than the cheap beer they’ve been drinking. John’s _everywhere_ , his lips on Alex’s, his hands on Alexander’s hips, his body crowding Alex against the counter he’s sitting on and Alex _can’t get enough_. Of John, who’s hair Alex is grabbing at right now, and it’s soft and familiar and Alex is in _love._ In love with John Laurens. Fuck. Fuckity fuck.

 _Pounding heart, ringing bells,_ his head supplies him giddily.

Alex, stop focusing on Broadway adaptations of Disney movies. Stop being drunk. Is it possible to not be drunk when kissing John? Drank? Drunk. Durn-k. Wait, stop thinking.

Alex always shrugged off the idea of getting addicted to kissing a certain person. You physically can’t get addicted to kissing someone-sure, it sends off dopamine signals to the brain, but it’s not _addictive_ . But that’s _exactly_ what’s going on right now, and Alex is never going to be able to kiss anyone but John ever again because it’ll never be the same.

Addictive. Just about.

What a shame that this'll probably never happen again-or if it does, never in the way that Alex wants. Never, ever with John loving him back.

Because _how in the world_ could a boy made of everything love Alexander?

Good bad idea. Wonderful, amazing, terrible idea. Beautiful, because Alex gets to kiss John, and terrible, because Alex gets to kiss John and he’s never going to ever be able to think of anything else from this point on, which is really, really bad, because they _aren’t even dating,_ but God, Alex would give it all just to have _this_ at some later point.

They part, because air is a terrible thing that hates Alex, and John opens his eyes. Those pretty-as-fuck eyes. Eyes you can get lost in for ages, hazel and beautiful as fuck.

“Thanks? I like your eyes too. They’re like. Chocolate. Like in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, where they have a chocolate lake. You could dive into your eyes and like, never come out-oh, and your smile. Rucking fadiant. Fucking radiant, I mean. Like, it’s always so genuine, and if you smile I just like, know it’s gonna be ok.” When John responds, it takes Alex a minute to comprehend that he said that out loud. Wow, they’re fucking wasted.

“Oh. Um. Thanks? Thanks.” Alex is blushing again, he can feel it, but that doesn’t matter because John leaned in again and they’re kissing. It’s light and chaste, soft and has such a tenderness to it that for a split second Alex can picture them just on the couch, the subway, sharing a soft kiss like lovers do, instead of two drunk friends in a bathroom.

If Alex were to say that it doesn’t hurt, he’d be lying.

At the same time, it doesn’t, because John’s fiddling with the ends of Alex’s hair as they kiss and that could never hurt. _John_ could never hurt. Ever.

Faintly, Alex registers the creak of a door.

“Are you two fucking done yet? Or done fucking? ‘Cause I’m sorry to interrupt your makeout session, but Angie just got here.” Hercules’ voice cracks whatever illusion, whatever spell got cast over them both, and John jumps back a few inches in surprise. Ow?

“Um. Shit. Yeah? Right?” Alex slides down the counter, suddenly aware that John’s hair is a _mess_ , lips puffy after kissing, pupils blown out the slightest bit and fuck! That's hot. John's hot.

“Fuck. Give us like, a minute? Dunno.” John rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed, and Herc rolls his eyes at them before leaving the bathroom.

“We should probably talk about that? But later. After we fix our hair and shit. Maybe go home. I don’t know, I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sorry about your hair. Fuck.” Alex hops off the counter, turns around and starts combing through his hair in a desperate attempt to not look at John, except well, mirrors.

“Don’t worry about, about rambling? You do it all the time, um. I don’t mind, but I’ve already told you that before. Or the hair. That’s. That’s fine. We’ll talk. But later.” John shrugs, leaves the bathroom in a hurry, not even bothering to fix his hair. That stupid hairdo that John spent 30 fucking minutes on, ruined and tousled and hanging and beautiful. Jesus Christ.

So Alex rests his elbows on the counter, presses his thumbs to his lips, where he still feels John’s lips, John’s breath. His skin burns where John touched it, lingering and Alex wonders.

Wonders, wonders, wonders.

Yeah, he needs to be a lot more drunk to deal with whatever the fuck’s happening right now.

 

* * *

 

 

_Fuuuuuuuuck._

John doesn’t care enough to open his eyes, because his head hurts, and he might be about to throw up. Nobody knows. Attempting to ignore the pounding in his head, he pulls his pillow closer to his body and buries his nose into it.

Wait.

Pillows don’t have human hair, or smell like Alex. Well, most of John’s pillows don’t. Smell like Alex that is. All of them don’t have human hair.

The thought makes his head hurt again, so he ignores it and tries to fall back asleep.

Fuck, what happened last night?

Oh, right.

Alright John, back to Sleeptown. Choo choo. Get on the train, it’s about to leave and shit. Leave the disaster that was last night back in last night, pretend you didn’t kiss your best friend senseless and just hold on to the last few seconds with him while you can.

John falls back asleep.

 

* * *

 

If Alex was a better human being, he would be more focused on his headache, and not so much on the fact that his best friend’s arms are wrapped around him. If Alexander Hamilton was a better human being, he’d get up and take a Tylenol-just one, the headache isn’t that bad. However, Alexander Hamilton is not a better human being.

_Do I have my pants on?_

After a quick leg wiggle, Alex confirms that yes, he metaphorically and literally kept his pants on. Which is kind of uncomfortable. He’s wearing jeans right now. In bed. Drunk Alex continues to let Hungover Alex suffer, through wearing jeans to bed, drinking far too much, and making out with his best friend because they were _bored_. Goddamnit.

They should talk about this. But after coffee and Tylenol. Jesus fuck. Alex twists around to face John, and his mind unhelpfully supplements him that platonic friends don’t usually spoon after making out.

Nor do people that are supposed to be platonic friends admire their probably hungover counterparts, but again, Alex is a rather flawed human being, and John is _really_ pretty.

Freckles scatter across his face in a pattern that Alex swears he’s memorized, despite the fact that freckles change over time due to the sun. Eyes closed peacefully, and Alex knows they’ll be a brilliant hazel when he opens them. Ears that stick out a little too much out of a bird’s nest of curly hair. Lips that touched his own, not for the first time last night, but certainly the first time the _fucking world shifted on its axis._

Alex knows that when John does wake up, his eyebrows will wrinkle, he’ll wake up cursing the sun and everything on this planet, including whatever fucker a million years ago thought beer was a good idea. He might throw up, which is gross, but even John has flaws, which Alex isn’t upset about at all. There are loud and quiet parts to John Laurens, and it’s fucking delightful to see him throughout the day.

_Fuck, I’m getting poetic, and my head still fucking hurts._

It’s then that John starts to stir, and Alex sees his eyebrows wrinkle slightly.

“Mornin’, bitchass.” John sighs.

“Good morning shithead, your breath stinks.” John sticks his tongue out at him and inches out of bed, mumbling about how beer is the worst thing to ever happen to mankind. He gets about halfway off the bed when Alex sees him tense and throw off the covers, running in the direction of the bathroom.

 _God_ , Alex could kill a man.

 

* * *

 

They’re sitting in the kitchen-on the counter, of course, because who uses chairs anymore-when Alex addresses the elephant in the room.

“So… About what happened last night.” Alex coughs after an awkward pause, coffee in hand.

_Fuck. Fuck fuckity fuck, this is where he tells you that it’s just not going to work out, that I should move out because it’ll be too awkward, that we probably shouldn’t see each other anymore. Shit._

John considers his options. It’s either talk about this whole making out bullshit and risk losing his friendship, or it’s…

Pretending it didn’t happen.

Good idea Laurens, great job to you and your _very few brain cells_ for coming up with a solution.

“What happened? Did you tear off the stall door again?” John wrinkles his eyebrows in what’s supposed to be confusion, and he thanks whatever the hell made him take those three acting classes with Eliza back in college.

Alex freezes briefly before visibly relaxing, a look of relief in his eyes, which is weird, but John’s not going to dwell on it, because his thoughts are _already_ filled with Alex, over and _over_.

It’s like how it is normally, but multiplied by a million because _holy fuck,_ they _kissed_ last night, and it was one of the best and worst things to happen to John. Ever.

“No, but I tried stabbing Angelica with a dart a couple of times and I need someone ridiculously tall to hide behind when she inevitably tries to get revenge.” Alex chuckles from his position on the counter, and John’s thoughts fly back to just a couple hours ago, when Alex was _also_ sitting on a counter.

_In all sense of their situation, their second kiss shouldn’t be as gentle as it should be. Dirty bathroom, dirty kisses in front of the stalls with dirty secrets. John’s high as a goddamn kite, just off of a kiss. He plays with the ends of Alex’s hair, tries to memorize the curve of lips that he’ll never touch again. Ignores the pang in his heart, ignores what’ll happen next._

_Dirty. Clean. Good bad plan. Ignores his head, loses himself in the softness of Alex’s hair, the press of his lips against John’s, because at least that’s good._

John snaps out of his daydream at Alex’s voice, mentally slaps himself. What did he say? Fuck.

“What did you say? Sorry, I’m just-”

“Tired, yeah.” Alex grins, bumps John’s shoulder with his own, and John wonders how he could ever think of risking _this_ for his own selfish reasons.

 

* * *

 

 

John’s avoiding Alex. Well, maybe _avoiding_ is too simple of a word to describe the shitstorm that Alex has gotten themselves into. It’s more like shying-away-at-every-attempt-at-touch-despite-them-usually-being-very-touchy-friends-and-generally-looking-like-he’d-rather-be-anywhere-else-but-here-during-conversation.

So yeah, John’s doing that, and it’s Alex’s fault, and it fucking _hurts_ , ok?

Thus, Alex is coping in the way he knows how, and no, it’s _not_ making out with John Andre this time, ok?

It’s writing.

That, and laying down on Peggy’s multicolored living room floor with Hercules while Peggy rolls her eyes and cuts up fruit.

God, Alex really doesn’t deserve his friends.

“So, whiny shit, any chance of you telling us why you’re so upset? Is it a John thing? Because I bet it’s a John thing.” Peggy says as she sets the fruit plate down on the blue coffee table. Apples. Alex takes a moment to grab one, relish in the flavor as it bursts across his tongue. A little bitter. They’re not really in season anymore. Wipes the fresh juice onto the carpet. Hercules kicks him for it, but whatever.

On one hand, there’s no way Alex can tell them the truth, because if anything’s more embarrassing than faking a relationship for three months and pretending that the relationship itself has been going on for half a year with your best friend?

Well, it’s having your best friend drag you to pretend to make out to annoy one person in the room, you taking the initiative to stop pretending and actually start making out because you’re bored and drunk and stupidly in love with your best friend, and then having another person also in this room walk in on you two making out.

On the other hand, Alex really needs advice. So he’ll just… Bend the truth.

“Yeah, um. It’s a John thing. Like, I think I did something wrong? It’s just. He keeps flinching whenever I try to touch him, and he looks like he wants to run every time we do have a conversation, and honestly, I’m starting to think that he thinks this whole relationship was a mistake. Like, he realized that hey, Alex is too much of a fucking mess to date, we’re better off as friends.” Alex uses his hands to rub his face because he’s stressed and hurting and doesn’t feel like looking at the disappointment on his friend’s faces.

Because the truth is, Alex _probably_ did something wrong, but John doesn't remember the major, big thing that Alex knows he did. So. What's up?

Herc kicks him again.

“First of all, that’s impossible, because every time that dumbass looks at you he lights up like you’ve given him ten puppies and a coupon to punch the president without charges.” Peggy remarks as she eats an apple.

“And second of all?” Herc pokes Peggy after a moment of silence.

“There is no second of all, that’s all. Alex is being too fucking stupid to process more information anyway.” Alex tries to kick her, but seeing as he’s on the floor and she’s on the couch, it doesn’t work out well. Instead, he wiggles deeper into the carpet and thinks.

_Lights up like you’ve given him ten puppies and a coupon to punch the president without charges._

John lights up like that for everyone, doesn’t he? No way _Alex_ is somehow special. No way that John could actually…

Alex lets go of the thought. Impossible. Reaches around the table for another apple slice.

 

There are a lot of things to think about in a multicolored living room, and a couple of revelations, if only he’d let himself look deeper into them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed that, I was honestly hoping for 10 pages but I left it on 7 because if you didn't read the beginning notes, I've been planning out a new series. Don't get excited yet because for the first time in all of my 9,875 years on this mortal realm (not really, it's more like 2 years tbh, considering my mental maturity and my intelligence) I'm planning things. Woo. But before I go on a tangent about the new series that I have nobody to vent about to so I'm forcing y'all to hear about it, let's discuss this chapter.
> 
> If you're wondering what Disney-adapted Broadway show the lyrics, "Pounding heart, ringing bells" are from, it's from The Little Mermaid. I had just finished a production of it, so it was natural that I'd just slip in a reference.  
> In short, more idiocy. John's a dumbass who thinks that avoiding his problems is a good idea rather than directly confronting them. This is why y'all haven't gotten together yet. Idiots. Honestly John, you got one thing right during that whole scene and it's the fact that you have two braincells.  
> ALSO! Peggy cutting up fruit when someone's sad? That's influenced from her Korean mom, and that idea was influenced by my Korean mom. In fact, after writing that scene I biked all the way to the grocery store twenty minutes away just to buy $4.96 worth of two apples and a box of strawberries.  
> It gets better at the end though! Alex might be onto something! Or not! Who knows, the man's an idiot.
> 
>  
> 
> If you're curious about the series, it's officially called From the Moon (or Boston) and Back, but for Tumblr heading purposes and because that's way too fucking long, we call it Boston Dreaming for short. Yes, it's another lams fic. Stay tuned? If you wanna.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to a long ass, kind of confusing chapter. i tried my best, please forgive me.

“Coming home” used to be a hard concept for Alex to wrap his head around. Repeat that please, there are people that you automatically feel  _ what _ with? 

_ It’s hard to explain _ , they’d say.

Then Alex went to college, met his friends, and well, as Rihanna once said, found love in a hopeless place. College wasn’t the hopeless place-well, he can and will argue that finals and midterms feel pretty fucking hopeless-but where he was in his life definitely was. Always waiting for something, someone, anything to happen.

It sucked.

So that’s what Alex thinks about when he busts into his apartment, and John’s sitting on the couch, cuddling with Junior. 

Yeah, _ home _ just about sums it up, and home is just too good to give up. 

So Alex is going to talk to his best friend, goddamnit. Ignore the butterflies. 

_ Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know…  _ His head (un)helpfully supplies.

“Hey fuckhead, I’m going to ignore the fact that you’ve been avoiding me, do you want Chinese?” 

John visibly cringes, but he nods, and Alex chuckles. Thinks again, how weird it is that John’s ignoring him. After all, John doesn’t remember the awkward kissing situation they put themselves into, so why on  _ earth _ is he so uncomfortable around Alex?

_ Every time that dumbass looks at you he lights up like you’ve given him ten puppies and a coupon to punch the president without charges. _

Huh. 

Well, Alex is nothing but a man of science. 

(That’s a lie, Alex hates science. He likes John though, an awful lot.)

Alex settles down on the middle of the couch, laughs as Junior leaps up from John’s embrace and starts licking all over Alex’s face. 

“Hey, hi baby, your breath fucking stinks, ew. Did you miss me? I love you, you little rat.” Alex coos at Junior as she settles down and looks over to see John already on the phone ordering.

_ I wonder what’ll happen if I start holding his hand or something _ , Alex muses.   
  
Well, testing it out can’t hurt. It’s all in the name of science, after all.

So Alex reaches over, gently grasps the hand that John’s not using. There’s a little shock, a spark that snaps between their hands, but it melts into something just  _ warm.  _

John jumps a little in his seat, and Alex can’t help but grin a little, heart fluttering.

“Yeah, that’s all, thank you,” John ends the call, stares at Alex with an incredulous look on his face, before shaking his head and giving a huff of laughter. Squeezes Alex’s hand once, scratches the back of his neck with the other.

Huh.

 

* * *

 

 

Well, John’s plan to ignore Alex until these fucking memories of _ that night  _ went away? Completely destroyed, because Alex has started getting touchy after coming home on Friday night. Right now, for the first time in a hot minute, they’re cuddling in John’s bedroom, each individually looking on their phones.

Oh, and John forgot to mention that he’s metaphorically on fire. 

Every place that Alex’s skin touches his own simmers, burns, crackles like logs in a fireplace. Since Alex might as well be an octopus, that’s a lot of places. It’s not Alexander’s fault that John’s in love with him. Actually, scratch that, it’s Alexander’s fault for being such a wonderful fucking person, and it’s not John’s fault that he fell in love with Alex. It’s only natural.

“Hey dude, ever think about how ducks have teeth on their tongues?” Alex inquires suddenly from his position, cuddled into John’s side, John’s arm is curled around Alex’s shoulders. Perfect fit. Like a puzzle piece.

_ Wait, John, that’s a bad idea to start thinking like that. Shut the fuck up, John. _

“Everyday. What about it?” John says. His skin is burning, burning, but mostly just  _ warm _ , like a well-loved blanket.

“Just thinking about what it would be like if instead of barb-like teeth they had a set of human ones on their tongues.” John takes a moment to picture it then mentally recoils in disgust. No thanks. Nope. Nada. Zip. 

“Why on earth would you force me to go through that?” Upon glancing down at Alex, John finds that the little shit has the audacity to smirk at him.  _ Fuck _ , that’s hot. 

“I’m not going to suffer by myself, dearest.” His response is simple, and John tries to not let the nickname get to him.  _ Don’t let them in, don’t let them see- _

Well shit. From the way Alex’s smirk widens, John didn’t do a very good job. Fight back, dumbfuck, you aren’t gonna let him get away with this, are you?

“Baby girl, you’re pretty cool, but please keep your horrifying teeth ideas to yourself. Nobody needs that in their head.” At that, Alex’s eyes widen and John can see a blush rise onto his cheeks. The nickname might feel a little foreign on John’s tongue right now, but it still works like a charm. Alex ducks his head and hides it into the little cranny between their bodies. John chuckles, keep scrolling on his phone. 

John: 1, Alex: 0.

It’s still for another minute or so until John feels Alex lift his face out of its hidey hole.  

“So, you ready to face the worl-” John’s shocked into silence as Alex elevates himself via an arm on John’s chest, leans in and kisses John on the cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth.    
  
Alex smirks and settles back into John’s side.

John drops his phone. 

John: 0, Alex: 1.

 

* * *

 

It’s really small things that Alex starts noticing overtime. Like a slideshow of examples, one after the other, with a mini-him waving wildly. John Laurens is not an open book by any means, but Alex can’t help but start noticing the _tiniest_ details.

Like how John  _ does _ light up whenever he looks at Alex, just like Peggy said. It’s become more bashful recently, like John’s feeling shy all the sudden. John Laurens?  _ Shy _ ? No way! But here they are, with Alex constantly making moves for once and Laurens is getting  _ shy. _

It’s more than a little endearing, and Alex thinks it’s so cute he might cry.

There’s also their constant need to be close to each other, he blushed a little on Tuesday when Alex grabbed his hand! John! Never! Blushes!  _ This is important! _

Hey, look at this! Mini-Ham says, probably screaming and waving a pointer stick wildly at the projection screen. He kissed you! Yeah, you threw the idea out there and you might’ve been a little drunk, but he said sure, and then he went in for a second kiss!

Damn Peggy Schuyler, but Alex can’t get the idea out of his head.

John might, just might, if evidence points true,  _ like him back. _

And if that isn’t a beautiful thought, Alex is made of moon cheese. 

The revelation reaches Alex on a Saturday afternoon, editing on the couch while Junior sleeps at his feet. It’s raining outside, and it creeps over him slowly, like warm honey flowing through his veins. His heart skips a beat, feels light and  _ John Laurens might like him back. _

He only realizes that he’s grinning like an idiot at absolutely nothing when John walks into the living room and gives him a quizzical look. 

“What’s got you smiling, sunshine?” John settles down next to Junior, and Alex shakes his head to snap out of whatever trance he’s got going on.

“You.” Alex grins wider as John startles, but he rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone when it buzzes in his pocket.

“Can’t keep your mind off me, can you? Don’t worry  _ babe _ , you stay on mine all the time.” John finishes typing something and somehow pulls off a  _ ridiculous _ wink while using both hands as finger guns. 

Aaaaaand Alex is melting. Not because the move was in _any way_ attractive, but it was dorky as hell and completely  _ John _ . 

“Baaabe?” Alex teases.

“Baaaaaaaaaaabe.” John swats at him as he says it, keeps texting. 

“ _ Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabe. _ ” A poke into John’s arm. Alex is ignored. Another poke.

“Who are you texting that’s more important than the love of your life?” Alex teases. John flinches a little, and Alex is worried that he’s crossed a line until John speaks.

“Nunya business, you nosy little shit.” 

Ok, Alex  _ might’ve _ been expecting some cute gay shit there, but he supposes that John will always be a little shit.

And fine, Alex is always going to be a little shit too.

“Is that any way to talk to someone you just called “babe” earlier? Rude. Absolutely no respect in this house. “Always on my mind” my ass.” 

“If you really want to know, it’s my ex.”    


Later, Alex will swear that the world stopped. It didn’t stop spinning, no. Crazy shit would happen if the world stopped spinning. It just.

Stopped.

It was only for a split second-Alex survived a goddamn hurricane, he’s not going to get stopped by John texting his ex-but it still stopped, and  _ that’s  _ crazy.

“Which, uh. Which one? Also, why?” Alex manages to stutter out, because it can’t be that bad, right? There could be a multitude of reasons as to why John was texting his ex, and only a few would be even inherently romantic.

And woah, that’s crazier.

Alexander Hamilton, an  _ optimist _ ?   


Huh.

“Daniel. The pretentious theatre kid. I think he’s drunk, he keeps trying to confess his neverending gay love for me in Iambic Pentameter. Or at least, that’s what I think he’s doing.”

Ok, that’s doable. Not romantic, then.

Why John found that necessary to keep away from Alex, he’ll never know, but it’s none of Alex’s business.

“Your drunk ex is trying to get you back via Iambic Pentameter and you aren’t showing me? This is fucking offensive, Jonathan.” Alex makes grabby hands for John’s phone, and he hands it over while voicing his complaints about the nickname.   


“My name isn’t fucking Jonathan!”

“ _ Sure _ Jan, and I’m the King of England.” Wow, this is  _ really awful _ Iambic Pentameter. Comedy gold. Alex screenshots a few of the best ones. 

“England doesn’t have a king right now, this is just bullying, Alex… Uh… Ham… Hamham!”

The awful name jolts Alexander from his sorta-silent judgment of Daniel, the pretentious theatre kid.

“Exactly my point-wait, did you just call me fucking Hamham?”  John has an, “I’m being a little shit right now and thoroughly enjoying it.”, grin on his face, leaning back on the edge of the couch with his arms crossed.

“Yeah, whatcha’ gonna do about it, Hamilham?”

“I didn’t think it could get worse, but it just did. That’s not my name, and I resent you for _ever_ thinking of that.” Admittedly, Alex isn’t that bothered by the nickname, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to let it slide.

“Oh? Well, if it’s not your name, what is?” 

Well, John _ did _ ask for it.

“Alexander Laurens. Laurens-Hamilton, to be precise. Pleasure to meet you.”

John shuts up.

Alex never cared much for science, but if  _ this  _ is what happens when he uses it?

Alex is getting a fucking degree.

 

* * *

 

**PEGGYRULES:** god you should’ve seen alex at my apartment that day he was HEARTBROKEN it sucked i hope they keep their shit together

**Lizabitchuyle:** Yeah and their relationship seemed to be going so well, especially after the disgusting pining that happened for years :( 

**anananangelica:** i’m not worried, they’re too stubborn to let miscommunication get in their way

**PEGGYRULES:** an impressive amount of faith in two disasters you have there, ange

**anananangelica:** bold of you to assume i have any faith in them at all. i’m just praying because i don’t want to deal with them being heartbroken and making up within the week

**Lizabitchuyle:** That’s pretty fucking wise  

 

* * *

 

John’s spreadeagled on his own bed, relieving his back after two hours of editing. Now that cutting up bits and pieces of a simple vlog are out of his way-it’s not like he has the mental capacity to manage much else-he’s back to thinking.

Alex has been acting weird lately. Not weird as in being more touchy, but if John didn’t know any better almost…

Flirty?   
  
Yes, that was the only way to describe it.

Like this afternoon, when Alex had teased John by proclaiming his name to be Alexander  _ Laurens _ -Hamilton. John almost died then and there. 

Alex, flirting with _ John.  _

Despite himself, John feels a giddy, all-too-large grin start to form on his face.

_ Snap out of it and don’t get your hopes up, Laurens. _

So. John’s identified that Alexander’s flirting, but the problem is that he can’t for the life of him figure out why. Because in all their five, verging on six years of friendship, in half a decade of John’s pathetic pining, Alex hasn’t ever shown any signs of wanting to cross the line to romance.

Unless it’s not romance? Maybe Alex just wants a hookup.

John groans and covers his face with his hands, frustration itching on his brain. That’s not it either.

Point one. John’s seen Alex flirt for more than a couple one-night stands-college was a wild time-and it’s nothing like what’s going on now. Watching Alex seduce some poor girl or guy is quick and efficient, so much so that you don’t even realize you’re falling for him until it’s too late. He could teach a masterclass on the subject, honestly.

Yeah. John’s been a little hurt watching Alex pick out his prey, and this whole situation isn’t anything like it.

Point two. Alex isn’t stupid. Even if he considered John to be aesthetically attractive, he wouldn’t… 

What’s the saying?

John flings his arms up, letting them crash back down. One hand hits the headboard. Ow. Motherfucker. 

Ah, yes. You don’t shit where you eat. AKA, don’t date, don’t hook up with people in your friend group, and especially not the ones you live with. It just doesn’t work out well. 

So if Alex isn’t looking for a hookup, what the hell is he looking for?

John gives himself a second, a moment to entertain that Alex might like him. That _maybe_ , their fake relationship doesn’t have to be fake.

No, nope. Stop that, John, you’re just going to hurt yourself.

_ God, this is so fucking annoying. Not to mention pointless. _

John rolls out of bed. He’s thirsty, this is dumb. As he ambles out the door to the kitchen, he hears Alex talking to someone. On the phone, maybe? He doesn’t recall anyone coming in through the door. So, since John’s a nosy little bitch, he leans into the door, and Alex’s muffled voice gets clearer.

“I think he actually likes me, Ned, and I’m not just projecting my stupid crush anymore! I sound like a dork, Jesus Christ. I’ve liked him for so long, and I never thought I’d actually have a chance.” There’s a huff of laughter, a pause as Alex listens to Ned on the phone.   


Point three.

Alex likes someone else.

John takes in a breath, keeps listening. Forces the twist in his chest to loosen. 

After all, it’s a best friend’s job to give people the shovel talk. John might as well know who he’s going to have to threaten.

 

* * *

 

 

Lying to your friends about a relationship is difficult because you can’t actually get excited with anyone else that you think the person you’re in a relationship with actually likes you, for real. Not only will you sound stupid, but you will also _be_ stupid.

Thank God that Alex has friends in other places.

“Alex, I’m pretty sure if I looked out my window right now, I’d see you like, flying over the moon right now. Like the scene in E.T., y’know?” Ned laughs over the phone.

“That’s… Actually pretty accurate to how I feel right now. It’s just kinda unbelievable, yeah? Like I’ve been pining after his stupid ass for years, and now I feel like I actually have a chance.” Beyond being over the fucking moon, because  _ John Laurens might like him back _ , Alex feels like a high school girl in a 90’s movie, sitting in bed and calling his friend over the phone to talk about his crush. If they still had phones with cords, he’d probably be twirling it between his fingers right now. 

Technology has expanded, however, so Alex settles for his own hair to twirl between his fingers.

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before. John made me smile today, John’s freckles are the cutest fucking thing ever, John is such a little shit, John can walk on water. Honestly, Alex, I’ve never met the guy and I can picture this dude in my head perfectly.” Ned’s voice takes on a higher pitch as he teases Alex.

“That’s because I’ve sent you a picture of him, asshole! Also, it’s not like I can help it, those are pretty much all true. Except for the walking on water part, which I’m  _ pretty sure _ he can’t do. Wait, let me ask.” Alex scoots off of the bed and walks towards the door, grinning.

“You better be decent, Laurens!” Alex swings his own door open and is met with the unexpected sight of John himself, who looks like he wants to melt into the floor.

“Oh. Hi, um,” Ned laughs over the phone, and Alex wants to physically slap him. But he can’t, because Ned is off in some part of the African continent trying to get vaccines to people. 

“Heyyyy.” John opens his mouth as if to say something else, but then closes it again. 

“Uhhhh. Can you walk on water?” 

Ned sounds like he’s hitting his head on the wall, which is exactly what Alex wants to do. But that would be weird, even for their standards. 

John doesn’t answer for a few seconds, still looking like a deer in the headlights. 

Almost like he was caught doing something. No, precisely like he was caught doing something. 

Something, perhaps, like _eavesdropping on a conversation._

“I’m pretty sure I can’t walk on water? That’s not what happened the last time I tried, anyway.” Alex jolts out of his own head as John begins speaking.

“Wait, you tried to  _ walk on water _ ?” Alex grins, hangs up on a cackling Ned. For a moment, the hallway is silent, save for the constant background noise of New York. He drops his phone.

“When I was like, eight? Martha bet me a dollar that I couldn’t do it, so we walked to the pool and I prayed to like, every higher power I knew to let me walk on water. Needless to say, I paid her a dollar.” John grins softly at the memory, fond and nostalgic and beautiful, and Alex could  _ kiss  _ him right now.

So Alex edges onto his tip-toes, grabs John by the collar of his shirt, and he  _ does. _

It’s not romantic, it’s not on top of a starlit cliff or after a drawn-out love confession, it’s two boys standing in a hallway and it’s  _ perfect. _

_ Like coming home. _

Or maybe not, because John recoils after a second or two, and that’s a problem because Alex is literally a foot shorter than he is-a fact that Alex resents dearly. 

Because of this movement, combined with the fact that Alex was already unbalanced on his toes, sends Alex crashing into John, who, already surprised, falls onto the floor with a loud  _ thud.  _

“Oof.”

“Fuck!”

It’s also a problem because Alex just _kissed his best friend without actually asking if said best friend likes him or not._ Alex is also currently on top of him, which is quickly fixed by Alex rapidly rolling off of him and sitting against the wall, hugging his knees.

_ You fucked up. This is it. You knew it was coming, Hamilton, you knew that one day you wouldn’t be able to control yourself and end up throwing yourself onto John, who doesn’t reciprocate your feelings and is obviously going to kick you out of his life. Might as well start booking one-way tickets to France- _

Again, his thoughts are interrupted by John. 

“Wait, what the fuck was that? Why would you kiss me?” John pulls himself up to lean on his elbows, a motion Alex hears more than he sees. Because if he looks at John right now, he’ll see the utter  _ disgust  _ on John’s face, the disappointment, the anger. 

Alex’s heart twists, twists until it’s nothing but a limp rag. Tears he didn’t know existed are suddenly gathering at the corners of his eyes, and he wants nothing more than to curl up into a ball.

Because why would  _ John Laurens _ want to be with a bastard orphan going nowhere? In what world, no matter the evidence, would John want to be with Alexander?

It’s no surprise that Alex is literally crying on the floor. John’s going to _ leave him. _ Just like everyone else.

“Alex? Alex, are you crying? Oh fuck. Baby, come here.” Alex sobs at the pet name, the gentle tone of John’s voice. This is just fucking cruel. If John’s going to kick him out, he might as well act like it.

Then John’s at his side, wrapping his arms around Alex, and he can’t help but melt into that embrace, try to drown out his own sniffles at the sweet nonsense that John keeps murmuring. 

“Alex, baby girl, why are you crying?” A hand, sliding through Alex’s hair. “Alex, look at me. What’s wrong?” The hand stops, moves under Alex’s chin and lifts it gently to meet John’s eyes.

God, his eyes. If Alex’s own eyes weren’t blurry with tears, he’d be able to trace the hazel, where the green and brown met and melted into one color that was just John. He’s probably memorized them by now anyway.

“Alex?” A concerned voice, a hand sliding through his hair.

Right, the question.

“What’s wrong is. Is that I just kissed you, without asking, without knowing whether or not you actually liked-oh hell, cat’s out of the bag, I might as well say that I love you-and I thought I was reading everything correctly, I thought for once in a million years that I’d actually have a chance but of course I don’t, why would you ever like me? Don’t answer that, I’m already hurting. Anyway, I thought you might like me back and you with that stupid, pretty grin of yours and I just kissed you. Fuck.” Alex is fully leaning onto John’s chest by now. He tries to memorize the bumps and curves, the faint heartbeat.

John is silent.

The heartbeat grows louder.

It’s actually kind of fast.

He’s probably angry.

“I could say a million responses to that whole ramble, but, well. I’d rather just not say shit and do this instead.” John leans away from Alex for a moment, lifts up his chin once again.

Brings their lips together.

_ Oh. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL
> 
> HUH
> 
> I GUESS I FINALLY HAD TO DO IT TO 'EM
> 
> this kiss? significant  
> after what? ten months  
> hotel? trivago
> 
> no but i promise they're getting together this time it's been 10 months of writing this they deserve it
> 
> let's discuss: they both used "let it go" references, what big nerds.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a really, really confusing ending???

“Can we be boyfriends? Because that’d be really nice.” Is the first thing that comes out of John’s mouth when they break apart. Goddamnit John. Don’t be stupid, this has happened before. You kiss, it’s nothing, rinse, wash, repeat.

“Sure? Yeah. Definitely. That would be really nice, sorry for like, crying. I don’t usually do that. Dunno why I’m so emotional. You’d think I’m pregnant, except I’ve been like, celibate. Also, I’d never do that. Or be that stupid. So unless God decided that I was Mary, which would be an asshole thing to do, I’m not. Y’know. Pregnant.” Alex chuckles nervously towards the end of his ramble, tucking a piece of hair behind his own ear. 

And John?   


John just laughs and pulls him in for another kiss. 

It’s ridiculous, really, this is how they get together? After all that pining? Not some overdone romantic sunset, no confessions of their undying love, just two boys in a hallway, laughing their asses off.

Somehow, ridiculous as it is, John thinks that it’s perfect. 

 

* * *

  
  
TEQUILA SCHUYLER   
@pegsandegg  
have you ever been SO GODDAMN FRUSTRATED because not only have people been LYING TO YOU FOR MONTHS they’ve been lying to THEMSELVES because they collectively have ONE GODDAMN BRAINCELL

TEQUILA SCHUYLER  
@pegsandegg to @pegsandegg  
and FURTHER FUCKING MORE their only apology is WHOOPS SORRY WE WERE UNDER PRESSURE UGH at least they’re for real about what they were lying about now

  
a.coldcuts  
@alexander.hamilton to @pegsandegg  
WE SAID SORRY I DON’T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO FUCKIN SAY PEGS

 

DaIsY dUkEs  
@standoffish.kinda to @pegsandegg  
What the fuck happened here

 

*heterosexual  
@jawhn.lawrence to @pegsandegg  
PEGGY THIS WAS A WEEK AGO WHY ARE YOU TWEETING THIS AT THREE IN THE FUCKING MORNING

 

TEQUILA SCHUYLER  
@pegsandegg to @jawhn.lawrence  
WHY ARE YOU REPLYING TO MY TWEET AT THREE AM LAURENS HM

 

a.coldcuts  
@alexander.hamilton to @pegsandegg  
,,,john has some unorthodox methods of getting me to bed ;)))))))))))

 

TEQUILA SCHUYLER  
@pegsandegg to @alexander.hamilton  
D I S G U S T I N G. MY ASEXUAL ASS DID NOT NEED THIS.

 

*heterosexual  
@jawhn.lawrence to @pegsandegg  
WE’RE NOT ACTUALLY DOING ANYTHING IGNORE HIM

 

im moron  
@morone.not.monroe to @alexander.hamilton  
Oh my god they’re fucking

 

*heterosexual  
@jawhn.lawrence to @morone.not.monroe  
NO WE WEREN’T but i would like to clarify that if we were to do the deed i would top

 

TEQUILA SCHUYLER  
@pegsandegg to @jawhn.lawrence  
i’m sure the world already knows john,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

 

a.coldcuts  
@alexander.hamilton to @pegsandegg  
>:(

 

 

“Really, Alex?” John looks up from Twitter to look at Alex, feeling himself smile-despite his best efforts-at his boyfriend.  


Wow.

His boyfriend. Alexander Hamilton is his boyfriend. It’s a cheesy thought, but it brings a smile to John’s face anyway.

“Hello? Helloooo? Earth to John?”

“What?”   
  
“Nothing, I just wanted your attention.”

“Wow, clingy much?”

“Yes, I’m so clingy. Like, cling wrap. You already know that though, so just cuddle me.”

“Fine.”

 

* * *

 

“Can you fucking believe them? I’m not even mad, it’s just that funny. Like, how does that happen?” Angelica rubs her face in frustration. _ Idiots. Idiots! _

“Well, as Peggy so eloquently put it: They have one collective brain cell. But enough about them, it’ll only inflate their egos. Who wants to watch Nine-Nine?” Lafayette gently slaps away Angelica’s hands from her face.  _ Don’t touch your face, Angelica. You’ll give yourself acne. _

That’s what Lafayette says anyway, but Angelica already has a little stress acne. She’s a med student, for god’s sake. 

“Fine. We’ll watch an episode, then we get those lovestruck idiots over here for a conversation.” 

“The way you said conversation makes it seem like there’ll be less talking and more punching. Relax, Angie. It was nearly a month ago.” Peggy says. Around a mouthful of gummy worms.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth Pegs, Oma raised us better than that.” Angelica flicks her own gummy worm towards Peggy, who, finished chewing, just eats it. 

God, she’s surrounded by idiots.

 

* * *

 

 

“My wife! Finally, you’ve come to save me. My boyfriend is fucking abusive and I’m not here for it.” Alexander scoots out of the booth seat eagerly, ignoring John’s offended noise in favor of hugging Eliza.

“Oh no, what’d he do this time.” Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she pushes Alex back next to John, who takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around Alex’s waist. Alex slaps him for his efforts.

_ Sigh. You’d think they’d be over their honeymoon phase by now.  _

“We were playing Uno, right, and this asshole used a Draw Four on me. It’s amazing I deal with him at all.” As Alex rambles, Eliza can’t help but laugh, drawing the attention of not-really-newly-weds. 

“Yeah Alex, try calling John an asshole when he’s not wrapped around you like an octopus and pressing kisses into your hair. Y’all are actually disgusting, I regret ever trying to get you two to be together.” 

“This is homophobic and I’m not for it.” John narrows his eyes, and she laughs even harder. 

“Ah yes. Me, the lesbian. Very homophobic. I signed Trump’s birthday card. Anyway, get off y’alls asses. We’re having a movie night, in case you forgot while smushing face, and I really want to watch Moana.”

 

It’s later, in the dark of the living room, TV lighting up their faces as Moana plays, where Alex thinks to himself that maybe, just maybe, every horrible and good thing in his life was leading to this moment. It’s not revolutionary, it’s nothing particularly memorable-it’s just all his friends sitting in a slightly crowded living room, watching another Disney movie. 

So, probably not. After all, tHere’s an ending to all of this, but that’s not what life is made for, is it? Life isn’t meant for its inevitable ending, it’s meant for _ living _ . For dancing and laughing and crying and love and family and a million other sad and happy things. For the loud and quiet moments, heartbreak and elation. And for Alex?

This is one of the very few quiet moments. If someone were to write a biography on him, there’s a large chance that this night would never be mentioned. Nobody but the people in this room would know about how Maria was braiding Eliza’s hair with Herc at her feet. No one would mention how Laf and Peggy burst into song and giggles simultaneously. Absolutely nobody would write about how Junior was barking at the TV whenever the ocean decided to be sentient. Nobody would write about the little kiss that John just planted on Alex’s head, because John is an insufferable romantic dork. And no one, absolutely no one, could write about how Alex’s heart skipped a beat at that little kiss, because Alex is also (just a little bit) an insufferable romantic dork. 

This night would in no way be a part of his legacy. A little secret from the outside world, which, as his channel grew, Alex knew he might be needing. 

Nobody would know the story of tonight, and that was completely ok, surprisingly.

So the world keeps spinning, time’s frozen in a living room with several people and a dog, living their lives and making mistakes in the mess their living makes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, thank you everyone for keeping around with this awful series. reflecting on this throughout the past weeks, this series is fucking awful, but writing this note now, i don't even regret it. writing is not meant to be perfect, and if you guys enjoyed it, that's all that's important. i've learned more than a couple things from this stupid, cheesy series, and i've had so much fun. i might be revisiting this occasionally, but i'm definitely going to focus more on some other series i have planned. like, there's that one big one in boston that i mentioned a couple weeks ago, there's this summer camp au i'm thinking of, as well as a few others. honest to god, thanks everyone for just sticking with this terribly written series. sorry that the ending is so short and weird, but i haven't been able to write it, and it sounds awful but i'd rather just move on?? i hope y'all will be there with me :) 
> 
> HOOO i love y'all, honest to god


End file.
